FIC: I wanna mm, part III
Title : I wanna mmm
Characters: Stan, Mario
Disclaimer: don't own them
Teaser: That happened during the Australia Open. It was hot. Too hot. And he was kind of depressed since the Kooyong final. And worst of all, Roger had cut his hair.
Stan’s curiosity grew more and more as passed the days. He was becoming restless and could spend hours moving about in the hotel room, while Roger was on practise. He knew he was losing his time, and that even more got on his nerves, but he couldn’t decide whether to see Marat again, or to discretly give a note to the reception guy, after all. Or to randomely knock at all the doors of the huge hotel.... Stan’s mind was getting fuzzy and the only thing that kept clear was the vivid image of Mario’s curls of hair falling on his brow why he was bent on his bag...but that thought inevitably brang the one of Roger’s hair, and Stan didn’t want to think of him. Well, not at those moments.
One afternoon, irritated, he hastily left the room and, his attention still rapted by his thoughts, bolted to the lift, regardless of everything around him. He pushed the button, with the firm intention to grab Marat out of that fucking bar where he certainly was and to say him that he didn’t care the hell that he wouldn’t help him, because...ok, all that was becoming ridiculous, he was mentally tired, and all he wanted was to...
The doors of the lift opened. Inside was....Mario. Stan gasped with surprise and was about to stand back when Mario griped his shirt to make him enter the lift. Even before Stan could utter a world, Mario had already pushed the button for the top floor and had wrapped Stan in his arms. Saying nothing, while Stan was still speechless, his mouth slightly opened, his eyes captivated by Mario’s face. Mario’s eyes, set on him, were both sweet and serious. No one said a word, the silence was complete in the lift, but neither of the two men even noticed that.
Then Mario’s mouth began to slowly caress Stan’s lips, while his hands were tightening on the Swiss’ waist. His mouth lingered on his rosy cheeks before reaching his temples and laying on it sweet kisses . One of his hand climbed all along Stan’s back to attain his nape, while the other was still holding his waist.
....
Ding!
The doors of the lift opened.
Characters: Stan, Mario
Disclaimer: don't own them
Teaser: That happened during the Australia Open. It was hot. Too hot. And he was kind of depressed since the Kooyong final. And worst of all, Roger had cut his hair.
Stan’s curiosity grew more and more as passed the days. He was becoming restless and could spend hours moving about in the hotel room, while Roger was on practise. He knew he was losing his time, and that even more got on his nerves, but he couldn’t decide whether to see Marat again, or to discretly give a note to the reception guy, after all. Or to randomely knock at all the doors of the huge hotel.... Stan’s mind was getting fuzzy and the only thing that kept clear was the vivid image of Mario’s curls of hair falling on his brow why he was bent on his bag...but that thought inevitably brang the one of Roger’s hair, and Stan didn’t want to think of him. Well, not at those moments.
One afternoon, irritated, he hastily left the room and, his attention still rapted by his thoughts, bolted to the lift, regardless of everything around him. He pushed the button, with the firm intention to grab Marat out of that fucking bar where he certainly was and to say him that he didn’t care the hell that he wouldn’t help him, because...ok, all that was becoming ridiculous, he was mentally tired, and all he wanted was to...
The doors of the lift opened. Inside was....Mario. Stan gasped with surprise and was about to stand back when Mario griped his shirt to make him enter the lift. Even before Stan could utter a world, Mario had already pushed the button for the top floor and had wrapped Stan in his arms. Saying nothing, while Stan was still speechless, his mouth slightly opened, his eyes captivated by Mario’s face. Mario’s eyes, set on him, were both sweet and serious. No one said a word, the silence was complete in the lift, but neither of the two men even noticed that.
Then Mario’s mouth began to slowly caress Stan’s lips, while his hands were tightening on the Swiss’ waist. His mouth lingered on his rosy cheeks before reaching his temples and laying on it sweet kisses . One of his hand climbed all along Stan’s back to attain his nape, while the other was still holding his waist.
....
Ding!
The doors of the lift opened.